


Drink away the sorrows.

by ProspitCalliope



Category: Homestuck
Genre: F/F, Sadstuck, Underage Drinking, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-11
Updated: 2012-10-11
Packaged: 2017-11-16 02:35:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 651
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/534531
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ProspitCalliope/pseuds/ProspitCalliope
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Roxy loves Jane. Jane loves Jake. And Jake is oblivious. Miss Lalonde decides that there is only one way to settle this.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Drink away the sorrows.

You rest your shaking hands on the side of the basin, your breath trailing out in short puffs. More tears roll down your flushed, lightly freckled cheeks. You drop the scissors feebly, the small item coming into contact with the carpeted floor fairly quickly.  
Weakly, you stand up straight, your eyes still tightly shut. You’re too scared to open them; you don’t want to see what you’ve done. A split second later, you open them, releasing a scream.  
\--  
Let’s go back to the beginning, shall we?  
Well, it was about six weeks ago. Your “bffsie,” Jane Crocker, told you that she was in love. A hopeful smile spread across your face as you began to type back. That little slither of hope was niggling away inside of you.

TG: ogm jnaye spill!!!!!!!!  
TG: *omG  
TG: *JANNEEETT  
TG: omfG JANEY JUSR SPILL.

You sit there, shuffling around in your seat nervously. She seems to be taking ages to reply, as if on purpose.  
A few moments later, your Pesterchum lights up, signalling a reply.

GG: Alright, alright!!  
GG: Calm down drunky!  
GG: It’s…  
GG: Jake!!!  
GG: :)

Your eyes widen as you receive message after message. 

Jake.

Jake.

Jake English.

She’d chosen Jake over you.  
You sit there, silently.  
How do you reply to that?  
You muster what you can of a smile and extend an arm, beginning to type back.

TG: wow janey  
TG: jake???  
TG: y jaek?

You sigh and pull your arm back, resting your head in your palms, your chin digging into them instantly. A small tear works its way down your face. You heard, that when someone cries, there’s a way to tell if they’re happy or sad. If the person is crying because they’re sad, a tear will slip out of their left eye first. If they were crying because they were happy, then a tear would work its way out of their right eye.  
The Niagara Falls has decided to take residence behind your left eye then.

You break down, your elbows slipping away beneath you and your forehead coming into contact with the desk as hard as possible. You groan as the pain sears through your skull, the tears continuing to fall. You want to scream and shout and just never go anywhere again.  
This is the worst possible news you could receive ever.  
She had no idea.  
No idea that you’d liked her for oh-so long. How long was it…? Three years?  
You inhale sharply, lifting your head to glance at your glowing computer screen.

GG: Roxy?  
GG: Roxy, you there?  
GG: Did I say something wrong??  
GG: Don’t tell me you’ve passed out again!!

You smile sadly. Your tears still flowing.

TG: nonon jaeny.  
TG: *janey  
TG: im fine. Don’t u worry ;) *wink*  
\- tipsyGolgnostic [TG] ceased pestering gutsyGumshoe [GG] at ??:?? - 

You flinch after a while, sighing and pushing your chair away from the desk. All optimism has been drained from your body. You feel hollow. Then, it hits you.  
If Janey loves men and men only…  
Well. You know what you have to do.  
You grab the pair of scissors by your side tightly in your hand and run out of your bedroom, sprinting into the bathroom. You slam the door, locking it shut after. Slowly, you walk towards the basin, the mirror glinting against the beam of sunlight shining into the room.  
You smile sadly at your reflection; grimly lifting the scissors up to your hair. Your glossy blonde locks bounce just above your shoulders, the ends flicking out ever-so-slightly. And, within moments, you’re there, snipping and cutting. Wisps of hair falling into the basin along with your tears.  
Ten minutes later, you stand there, your reflection now a foreign creature to you.  
Your mascara has made two long, black paths down your pale face.  
Your once mid-length, glossy hair now flat, dimly-toned and unevenly cut.

“You’ll love me, one day Jane."


End file.
